Warlock TLC
by steviemichael
Summary: A re-imagining of 1x09. Magnus takes care of an injured Alec.
1. Shadowhunter Drama

Magnus had just finished with his last client for the day and was pouring himself a well-earned drink when his phone rang. He contemplated letting it ring, after all even warlocks deserved a drink break. His irritation only grew when he saw that the call was coming from the institute. His determination to let it go unanswered, strengthened as he thought of Shadowhunters and their arrogance and prejudice, but images of a certain tall, handsome, adorably shy and tragically repressed Shadowhunter flashed unbidden through his mind. With a dramatic flourish he returned his untouched drink to the tray and answered his phone, but only to put an end to the incessant ringing, not at all due to a desire to speak with a certain someone.

"Magnus Bane, how may I be of service?" he purred.

"You are needed at the institute. A forsaken created by Valentine broke through our wards last night, injuring two of our men." The voice on the other end was curt and all business, the complete antithesis to Magnus' languid eloquence, and one Magnus immediately recognized as Robert Lightwood.

"That is indeed concerning," Magnus offered offhandedly. It wasn't that he didn't care, but the drama within the Shadowhunter community was exhausting to say the least, and for his part, he would like very much to stay well away from it. He had enough on his plate keeping his own Downworlder children in line.

"That's putting it lightly. We need the wards reinforced immediately. I'll expect you within the hour." Robert's terse voice broke Magnus out of his reverie, but before he could respond Robert had already hung up the phone.

 _Typical Shadowhunter._ Magnus thought bitterly. _Entitled, arrogant, demanding, prejudiced . . ._

But his tirade against the evils of Shadowhunters was once again interrupted by thoughts of Alexander. Alexander was a mystery to Magnus. He was unlike any Shadowhunter Magnus had ever met. For that matter, he was unlike _anyone_ Magnus had ever met. He was a bundle of contradictions. He was a leader and a warrior, but he was also shy and unsure of himself. He was kind and gentle but could be harsh and unyielding. He seemed determined to be everything to everyone, the perfect son, the doting brother, the loyal Parabatai, and yet in the process had somehow lost who he was. Magnus cursed himself for allowing himself to be so moved by the young Shadowhunter. Perhaps he had grown sentimental over the very long course of his existence.

Magnus began gathering a few items he would need to reinforce the wards. Because, despite the unpleasant and frankly insulting conversation with Robert Lightwood, the institute was Alexander's home and Magnus couldn't help but want to protect the young Shadowhunter. Once he had collected all the necessary items and quickly touched up his eye makeup (purely for professional reasons) he portaled himself to the institute.


	2. If anything were to happen to you

Upon arriving at the institute Magnus was quickly met by two very stoic Shadowhunters. Although under the guise of an escort, Magnus couldn't help but feel they were more there to keep an eye on the 'dangerous' warlock than as a welcoming party. The distrust of Downworlders ran deep among Shadowhunters, and even when being called upon for assistance they were always treated as second class citizens, people to be wary of. His earlier exhaustion and frustration returned, but he had committed to do this, so he plastered on a smile and graciously followed his "escort" to the office of Robert Lightwood.

"Good, you made it." Robert didn't bother looking up as he addressed Magnus, who had just entered the room.

Ignoring the slight, Magnus glided across the room, and gracefully deposited himself on the nearest chair. "Robert, a pleasure as always. Tell me more about the attack."

Detecting the thinly veiled venom in Magnus' voice, Robert had the good sense to look up from his work. "Bane, as I explained on the phone, our wards were broken through last night by a forsaken created by Valentine. The details of the how and why are not your concern."

"Oh really? The "why", as you say, is irrelevant to me, however, if you are looking for me to reinforce the wards in a way as to deter further such attacks, the "how" is very much my concern. I could of course put up a generic ward and you can call me back when you once more find yourself under attack. The choice is yours. It's no skin off my nose. In fact perhaps that would better, then I can collect double from you." Every word from Magnus' mouth dripped with derision. Robert's complete ignorance to what went into Magnus' work hit a nerve. Robert made it seem as though Magnus were nothing more than teenager come to paint a fence. He was an artist, his work, a finely honed craft

"You've made your point, Warlock." Magnus stiffened at that name. Though he had come to embrace and celebrate who he was, in the mouths of Shadowhunters, the word held nothing but contempt and fear.

Having accepted the validity of Magnus' argument, a chagrined Robert shared the details of the forsaken created by Valentine. When he had finished he rose up and sharply gestured for Magnus to follow him throughout the institute, reinforcing the wards as they went along. It was tedious work, and Magnus found Robert's presence significantly annoying, despite the fact they spent the entirety of the time in silence. After an hour or so, to Magnus it felt like weeks, they reached the last corridor requiring reinforcement.

"The wards solid now, nothing will get through?" From Robert's tone, Magnus gathered their time spent together had not been agreeable to the Shadowhunter either.

"Even my magic has limits." Magnus was unwilling to back himself into a corner by making un-keepable promises. Despite being the High Warlock of Brooklyn, he was not all-knowing and could not foresee all possible attacks, but he was confident in his skill and the service he provided. "Don't fret though, my protections will slow them down considerably."

"Extra time is priceless." Robert acknowledged.

"Say that after you get my bill." Magus found himself unable to not try and get under the other man's skin whenever the opportunity presented itself.

As Magnus finished working his magic (literally) he caught a glimpse of a very tall shadowhunter out of the corner of his eye walking down the corridor towards Robert and himself. Though he would deny it, Magnus' reinforcement of the wards become more exaggerated and dramatic. An added curl of the hand here, a flick of the wrist there. He certainly wasn't trying to impress anyone. With one last flourish he turned to face Alec, who had now reached Magnus and his father.

"Alexander, how lovely to . . ." he stopped short of finishing his sentence when he saw the state of the young Shadowhunter. Though still as devastatingly handsome as ever, he was pale, much paler than usual, apart from the flushed cheeks. His face was pinched and drawn, and a thin layer of sweat glistened on his forehead. It was then that Magnus noted the bandage on his left arm, which looked to have been haphazardly applied. _Stubborn shadowhunter probably wrapped it himself._ Robert's words from their phone call came back to him, _two of our men were attacked_ , he had said. A pit formed in Magnus' stomach, forsaken wounds if not properly attended to, could be very dangerous to nephilim.

Robert felt no such discomfort when faced with his son and immediately began giving orders. "Alec, I have a meeting with members of the Clave in half an hour. Warlock, Bane has just finished reinforcing the wards, please see to it that his bill is paid." With that Robert strode off to deal with the Clave, seemingly oblivious to his son's sickly state.

"Yes, sir." Alec responded quickly and forcefully to his father. Always the obedient son, the good soldier. Truth be told he felt like shit, and wanted nothing more than lie down and sleep. Robert had him running around all day, completing various tasks and errands. He suspected his father was disappointed in him, though he had not said as much. In fact he had said nothing to Alec since the attack, apart from conveying orders. It seemed to Alec as though he were being punished in some way for last night's attack, and perhaps he should be. He was careless in the fight and if not for Hodge the forsaken may have made off with the cup (not to mention, kill him in the process).

He broke out of his reverie when he remembered Magnus. He hazarded a shy glance at him, and his breath caught in his throat. Magnus was magnificent. Alec had never met anyone quite like him before.

"Magnus, thank you for coming on such short notice. Please come with me and we can settle your bill." Magnus couldn't help but notice the change in the boy's tone. With his father, Alec had been strong direct, shoulders back, eyes forward. But when he turned to address Magnus, his tone softened and his eyes dropped to the floor, suddenly unsure of himself. Magnus couldn't help but be endeared by it.

As Alec turned to go, Magnus gently grabbed his uninjured arm. Alec turned and quietly made eye contact with him and for a moment the institute faded away, and there was only Alec and Magnus. The moment as broken when Alec cleared his throat and slowly pulled his arm back from Magnus. He glanced around nervously and then once again dropped his gaze to the floor "We should go, I . . ."

"A forsaken wound often needs a little Warlock TLC. May I? Free of charge!" Magnus tried to keep his tone light and casual to try and alleviate a bit of the tension, but he was unable to keep the concern out of his voice.

"I'm fine." Alec answered quickly. Magnus wondered if Alec had ever admitted to being anything other than fine. Had he ever been allowed to express pain, physical or otherwise? No, of course not. With Shadowhunters emotions were thought to be a distraction. Magnus' heart hurt for this strong, broken man in front of him. When had he come to care so much for Alexander? As he looked at him now, he realized he was in deep. Somehow he had fallen for this man. And the thought of him being injured or worse was suddenly too much to bear.

"Alexander," he began gently, his voice rough with emotions he was trying desperately to hide, "if anything were to happen to you I . . ."

"Magnus. You don't have . . . I just . . ." Alec sighed and lowered his head. Truth be told he would love for Magnus to heal him, but he knew he didn't deserve that relief. The pain was good. The pain would make him a better protector. The pain reminded him of how he failed and spurred him to do better. To be better. "Thank you, but, its fine. I'm good. We should get going" With that the gentle timidity of earlier disappeared and the soldier returned.

As Alec turned his back and began to walk away, Magnus followed reluctantly, unable to quiet the worry in his head for the young Shadowhunter.


	3. Consequences be damned

Alec led Magnus down the corridor, while silently fighting an internal battle. Since meeting Magnus, his entire world had shifted. Hopes and dreams he had locked away tight in the caverns of his soul, were now alive and eager to be released. Every fiber of his being felt drawn to Magnus, and the warmth and connection he offered, while his every instinct screamed at him to stay as far away from him as possible. Alec knew that this man, this sexy, funny, kind, and mysterious man (damn he had it bad!), could potentially spell the end of his life as he knew it. If he allowed himself to entertain the idea of a relationship with Magnus, he could kiss his dream of becoming head of the institute goodbye, and he would most certainly be subject to ridicule among the Shadowhunter community. He thought perhaps he could live with that, if it meant even just the chance to experience love and true companionship.

No sooner than he allowed himself to contemplate the possibility of pursuing his own desires however, did he immediately shut it down. It would be selfish. How could he even think of doing this to his family? Images of his father red with anger, while his mother cried in the corner in sorrow and disappointment over her eldest son, filled his mind. Izzy would of course support him, but how would his choices impact her life? And while he was sure Jace would stand by him no matter what, could he really bring this shame upon his parabatai?

As his battle of mind and heart waged on, Alec suddenly found it difficult to breathe and the outer edges of his vision began to darken. He thought perhaps he was experiencing a panic attack (something which he was sadly no stranger to), but the screaming pain in his injured arm, quickly alerted him to what was actually happening. His body was giving out under the strain of his injury. Unable to continue, he stopped and braced himself against the wall, the cool tile acting as a soothing balm to his burning skin. As the room began to spin he felt a gentle hand on his back.

Magnus had been lost in his own train of thought when he noticed the young Shadowhunter in front of him become somewhat unsteady. The concern he had pushed into the back of his mind, went on high alert once more. When Alec suddenly stopped and leaned heavily against the wall, Magnus quickly closed the distance between them, and placed a supportive hand on Alec's back. He was alarmed to feel heat radiating off him.

"Alexander? Look at me, Alexander." His voice was gentle but firm as he tried to ascertain the extent of the boy's illness.

Alec turned slowly to face him. "Magnus," he slurred. ". . . Help me."

Magnus' heart caught in his throat at Alec's wretched plea, and as he took in Alec's glassy, unfocused eyes and trembling form, he knew he had no time to waste. However, before he could formulate any sort of plan, Alec's beautiful hazel eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp, collapsing against Magnus.

"Alexander! Alec!" His desperate cries went unanswered however, as Alec remained slack against him.

He gently lowered the boy to the ground and immediately took stock of Alec's vitals. His breathing was shallow and labored and his heartbeat erratic. He placed a hand on his forehead, gently brushing back a few stray locks, and unsurprisingly found he was burning up. Magnus couldn't recall a time when he had felt this degree of panic, but he forced himself to remain calm as he quickly contemplated his options. He could of course take Alec to the infirmary, but he would undoubtedly be asked to leave and allow the Shadowhunters to care for their own. This option seemed unsatisfactory, knowing Alec's stubbornness and Robert's obliviousness, he questioned if he would receive the care he needed.

He knew what he needed to do. It was a bit reckless perhaps, one might even label it as kidnapping. The likelihood of fallout for this course of action was very high, but when it came to people he cared about, Magnus was not one to shy away from tough choices (or insane choices).

He quickly glanced around, grateful to find that they were alone, before creating a portal to his loft. He then gently lifted the unconscious Shadowhunter into his arms. Despite having a few inches on him, Magnus was built like a brick house, and easily lifted the boy. He felt his heart clench as Alec's head lolled against his chest. Consequences be damned. Nothing was going to stop him from ensuring Alexander's well-being. With that last defiant thought, he pulled Alec close and stepped through the portal.


	4. Do you trust me?

Magnus stumbled out of the portal, the extra weight in his arms throwing him slightly off balance. After righting himself, he glanced worriedly down at the unconscious Shadowhunter in his arms. Alec was now shaking violently, perspiration streaming down his face.

Magnus carried him quickly into his bedroom and laid him down gently on the bed. With a flick of his wrist, he removed Alec's jacket and shirt, he needed to cool him down, and quickly. His fever was dangerously high. As he knelt by the bed, he noticed several healing runes on Alec's side. He was not surprised that they had failed to alleviate his suffering, as he had mentioned earlier, a forsaken wound often required a warlocks magical touch. Magnus raised his arms and with steely focus allowed healing magic to flow from his hands. Several minutes passed, and Alec's condition seemed to have changed for the worse. He was now writhing on the bed in agony. Magnus felt hopelessness begin to gnaw at his heart, as he groaned in frustration. He refused, however, to allow himself to wallow. He was the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and if it was the last thing he did, he was going to heal this boy.

"You're gonna be okay Alec. You have to fight! Just please . . ." he couldn't control the break in his voice, "please hold on."

With renewed determination, he gritted his teeth and poured everything he had into Alec's tormented body. Time dragged on and on, and just as he felt himself reaching the end of his reserves a bit of color returned to Alec's cheeks and the tremors that had wracked his frame finally stilled. Magnus collapsed against the side of the bed with a cry of relief, totally and utterly spent from the exertion. His arms were shaking, and his head was pounding, his body pushed beyond its limits. He drew deep shuddering breaths as he tried to calm himself. After several long moments, he regained enough strength to raise himself up slowly to sit on the side of the bed.

He was pleased to see that Alec's face was no longer contorted in pain and his breathing while still shallow had evened out. As affection stirred in his heart, he reached out a trembling hand and rested it on Alec's cheek. He told himself, he was checking to ensure that his fever had indeed lowered, when in actuality, he simply needed to touch Alexander, to reassure himself that he was here and he was alive. After a few moments, his hand slid up from Alec's cheek and began fondly stroking the young Shadowhunters unruly hair. Though Magnus realized it was unlikely, given his unconscious state, he could swear he felt Alec lean into his touch.

He wished he could stay like this forever, but he knew Alec wasn't out of the woods yet, now that his fever was down, he needed to address the culprit for Alec's illness. Gently untangling his hand from Alec's hair, he began unwrapping the dressing on his arm. It was ragged and completely soaked with blood and sweat. Finally, the sad excuse for a bandage was removed revealing the grisly injury to Alec's upper bicep. Magnus couldn't help but wince in sympathy. The jagged gash was as deep as it was wide. The most concerning aspect though was the thick green pus oozing from the wound.

Magnus' blood ran cold. He had encountered this type of infection years ago, and unless he was mistaken, this was a pseudomonas infection. Still weakened from his healing marathon, he gingerly rose from the bed and moved as quickly as he could manage to his library. He pulled out several books, flipping through them furiously, only to toss them down in frustration. He knew the book he was looking for was in here somewhere. Finally, after trashing half his library, he came upon the book for which he was searching. It took a few moments, but he eventually found the section he needed. As he read through the article, his fears were confirmed. The cause for Alec's current condition was a Pseudomonas. An infection caused by a common bacteria that many healthy people carry without ever suffering any effects, but which can be deadly in the ill or wounded. The primary concern being the infection making it into the bloodstream, causing septicemia.

In the early stages this could be treated with antibiotics, but based on the looks of Alec's wound and the symptoms he was presenting, Magnus knew the only treatment available to him was far less pleasant. He steeled his nerves and began preparing the necessary items for the task at hand. Once he had everything he needed, he made his way back into the bedroom.

He laid his tools on the nightstand and once more knelt by the bed. He forced down the bile rising in his throat and carefully went through the procedure in his mind. His magic thoroughly depleted from his earlier activities meant he would have to do this the old fashioned way. His concentration was broken when he heard a voice, no more than a whisper, weakly call his name.

"Magnus?" Confusion and pain were immediately evident in Alec's voice. "Whe. . .where am . . . agh!" His inquiry was cut short as a wave of pain washed through his body.

Magnus was at his side in an instant, his earlier exhaustion forgotten. "I'm here, Alexander," he reassured as he laid a soothing hand on the boy's forehead, "you're going to be alright."

As the next wave hit him, Alec instinctively reached out his hand for Magnus', gritting his teeth against the pain. "It hurts s..so bad, please make it stop!" Alec knew he was begging, but the pain was so overwhelming he couldn't find it in him to care.

At that, Magnus' heart broke. He wished he could simply take away Alec's pain, but he knew what he had to do next would only magnify the young Shadowhunter's distress.

"Shh. . . it's going to be okay" Magnus soothed while gently stroking his thumb across the top of Alec's hand. His words tasted like ash in his mouth, as he considered the prospect of what was about to happen. It was made all the worse now that Alec was conscious, but he knew it had to be done. He reached out his free hand and cupped Alec's cheek, turning his head ever so slightly towards himself. "Alexander, do you trust me?"

Even in his fevered state, as Alec stared into Magnus' warm chocolate eyes, he knew he would trust him with his life. "I do," he said simply.

The rush of emotion Magnus felt for this young man was overwhelming, but there was no time for sentimentality now.

"Alexander, your wound has become severely infected," Magnus explained. "If I don't _remove_ the infected tissue, it will kill you." He paused to let his words sink in.

"I understand" Alec grunted, "do it."

Magnus released Alec's hand and grabbed a leather strap from his pile of supplies. "Bite down on this," he instructed. Alec complied, but the fear was evident in his wide eyes.

"I need to apply isopropyl alcohol to the wound before I can cut away the infected tissue to try and avoid any further infections. I'm sorry, my dear, this will be quite unpleasant." Alec gave a quick nod and shut his eyes in anticipation. Magnus grabbed the bottle and poured it into the open wound.

Alec's arched his back in agony, biting down hard on the leather strap between his teeth, one lone tear spilled onto his cheek. He sagged into the bed as the worst of it passed. Tears now came unbidden to Magnus as he watched this young man, whom he had come to care so deeply for, go through so much suffering, with only the promise of more agony to come. He wanted to give Alec a moment before he moved onto the next part, but Alec, sensing his hesitation, rasped out for him to get it over with. He reached out and let his fingers ghost over his cheek, his thumb gently wiping away the escaped tear. "I'm so sorry, Alexander, but I am going to have to restrain you to try and keep you as still as possible during the procedure. Do you understand?" Alec gave a barely perceptible nod and then shut his eyes.

Magnus grabbed some rope off the nightstand and began gently but securely tying down Alec's arms and legs. With that completed he turned to the nightstand and put on a pair of gloves He then grabbed the knife which he had boiled and disinfected and turned back towards Alec. Taking a deep breath, he sunk the blade down into the infected flesh.

Nothing could have prepared Magnus for the screams that tore through Alec's throat. If he lived another 400 years, he would never forget those screams. Yet he refused to allow himself to look at Alec while cutting away at the infection, afraid that the sight of his face would weaken his resolve. After several minutes, the screams stopped as the pain became too great and Alec fell into unconsciousness. Magnus continued cutting, until at last, mercifully, all the damaged tissue had been removed. He grabbed the sterile gauze from his supplies and carefully wrapped the wound. Once that was completed he gently removed the restraints, trying not to focus on the ugly red marks on Alec's wrists and ankles.

Magnus was utterly spent, emotionally and physically. As he stared at Alexander's prone form he couldn't help the tears that began rolling down his cheeks. Alec suddenly shifted in the bed, a pained groan escaping his lips, but remained unconscious. Magnus felt his heart shred. He wanted nothing more than to take away his pain and lavish him with love and comfort. He crawled into the bed and carefully took Alec into his arms, once more he began running his fingers softly through his hair while humming an old lullaby he had learned from a dear friend long ago.


	5. The waiting game

"And you're positive this potion will uh. . .do the trick?"

Magnus sighed inwardly. "Yes. Absolutely. All my potions, when used as instructed, come with a 100% guarantee." He wondered briefly if the annoyance was evident in his tone, before realizing he simply did not care. This particular client had been exceedingly trying and he was itching to be rid of him.

After a few more patent reassurances, his client finally satisfied, he bid him adieu and quickly saw him out. Once the door was securely latched and his wards back in place, he strode swiftly into the bedroom.

He opened the door gently, pausing briefly to collect himself before entering. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Alexander, still dead to the world, laid out across his bed. It had been a little over 48 hours since his impromptu surgery and Alec had not stirred once.

Magnus thought back to the day after operating on Alec's infected limb. He had woken up with a stiff neck and a pounding headache, but mercifully once more he felt magic coursing through his veins. Despite his fatigue, he quickly set to the task of pouring healing magic into the wounded boy in his bed. This healing session was not marked by the same desperation of last time, as Magnus slowly and delicately worked his magic.

He started with Alec's raw ankles and wrists, grimacing at the vivid images the injuries stirred up. Pushing those memories down, he gently grasped each injured limb, blue sparks dripping from his fingers into the broken flesh, until the skin was whole once more. He continued this methodical approach until at last, he came to the wounded arm. Gently unwrapping it, he sighed contentedly to find no further signs of infection. He closed his eyes, concentrated, and once more allowed his magic to flow through him, knitting and binding the wound back together. His work at last finished, Magnus knew it now a waiting game.

Two days later, Magnus couldn't help the worry that crept into his mind as he regarded the unconscious Shadowhunter. He made his way to the bed, placing a hand tenderly on Alec's forehead, checking his vitals. He was pleased to find they were stable, as they had been the last 50 times he had checked. Now if only he would wake up.

Logically, he knew that Alec's body simply needed time to recover from the tremendous ordeal it had gone through, but in matters of the heart logic rarely took a front row seat. He needed to see those beautiful hazel eyes and that adorable lopsided grin.

Absently he ran his fingers through Alec's hair, the blue glow of healing magic trailing lazily behind. How had he let himself become so enamored with the young Shadowhunter? He had only known him a short while, and already, he felt that his happiness was tied to the fate of this young man. It was irrational and foolish, and yet utterly undeniable. Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, was hopelessly and desperately smitten.

He was startled out of his musings as his wards suddenly pulsed in warning. A loud and persistent banging came from his front entrance.

"Magnus Bane? Open up, we need to speak with you!" A harsh voice shouted from outside his abode.

He glanced down at the Shadowhunter in his bed, it took a little longer than he had expected, but he knew they would show up at his door sooner or later to discuss the missing Lightwood.

"This is why you stay out of Shadowhunter business, Magnus," he berated himself softly. But as he looked once more at Alexander, he knew he would do it again in a heartbeat.

"Coming, coming!" He called to his unwelcome visitors. In a flurry of motion, he cast an invisibility glamor over the young Shadowhunter just to be safe, before withdrawing to greet his 'guests'.

"Ah gentleman, to what do I owe the pleasure." Magnus kept his tone light, devoid of the usual biting sarcasm he reserved for the _mostly_ insufferable Shadowhunters. No sense in antagonizing them unnecessarily in this instance.

There were three men in all. Two who appeared to be there as the muscle, and the third, a tall thin man dressed impeccably in a gray suit, who was clearly their superior.

"We came to inquire if you have any knowledge about the whereabouts of Alec Lightwood."

Well at least they were straightforward and seeing as their weapons were not drawn, Magnus began to relax. Evidently, he was not a prime suspect, not yet.

"I'm sorry to say I do not. Has something happened?" He asked with feigned confusion and concern. Magnus while not known for his modesty, felt it was accurate to say that his acting was top notch – certainly good enough to fool these buffoons.

The tall wiry fellow responded accusingly, "It is our understanding that you were the last one seen with him before his disappearance."

"Well I cannot say whether or not that is so, it is true that I was with the Lightwood boy not two days ago, after reinforcing the wards, per Robert Lightwood's request. But I have not seen him since. I am sorry to hear of his disappearance."

"Hmmm. Very well. We will be looking into this further. If you should hear anything please contact us immediately."

Something in the way the man's eyes scoured his apartment sent a chill down Magnus' spine. Perhaps he had not been as convincing as he had thought. Or perhaps his interrogator was shrewder than Magnus had anticipated.

"Oh, absolutely. You can count on me."

Magnus casually watched the men file out of his apartment, he waited several moments, allowing for them to make their way out of his building before making his way to the window. As suspected he saw that the "muscle" had stayed behind to watch the apartment, pretty conspicuously too. Apparently, they were not worried about stealth, this was very clearly meant to send a message.

Magnus was counting on the fact that if once Alec woke up this could all be explained and resolved. Though with Shadowhunters you never knew. They were sticklers for the law. Though his motives were purely altruistic, kidnapping was a punishable offense, and one not taken lightly by the Clave.

Sighing, Magnus strengthened his wards, wanting to ensure no unwelcome visitors during the night, before retreating back to the bedroom and setting up his vigil beside the unconscious Shadowhunter.

"Oh Alexander," he whispered sweetly. "What have I gotten myself into? You know, if you wanted to wake up sometime in the near future that would be okay by me."

Magnus took Alec's hand in his and continued talking to him well into the night before finally drifting off into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
